User blog:Invisiblewing/HTTYD Fanfiction/Retelling: Part 4
Thanks again to anyone who read my previous blog posts. Here's part 4 of my retelling of the movie. I'll try to keep the word count down a little to make these posts an easier reading experience. Any comments/suggestions for improvement are welcome. ___________________ I got back to Berk, noticing that Gobber and the other teenagers were exchanging horror stories around an outdoor firepit. They were eating supper together. Needless to say, Gobber had way more to say than all of them combined. “Ah, Hiccup!” he said as I approached. “Come join us!” He held out a skewered salmon for me. I took it and held it in the fire, making sure that it was not going to be raw when I started eating. “Thanks,” I mumbled. Gobber continued his story that I had interrupted by showing up. “And he bit my hand off and swallowed it whole,” he said, motioning with his prosthetic skewer, which held a whole cooked chicken. “I saw the look on his face. I was delicious. He must have told all his friends, because not two months later, another one took my leg.” All of the teens except for me were enraptured with his story. I was focused on the fish at the end of my skewer, watching it blacken as the heat wrapped around it. “Man, I’m so angry right now!” Snotlout gritted. I glanced up at him. Snotlout was prone to these bizarre outbursts, so I turned my attention back to the fish. “I’ll get revenge for your beautiful hand and foot. I’m going to chop off the legs of every dragon I meet…with my face.” I looked at him in confusion. Thinking that would take amazing skill. My dad would be hard-pressed to compete with Snotlout’s promise. “Mm-mm,” Gobber said, ripping off one of the legs from his cooked chicken. “You can use your face, but don’t go for the legs.” I pulled the fish out of the fire. Examined it. Not raw. It was safe to eat. “Why?” Snotlout asked. “Because if you remove one leg, the dragon can still walk, stand and fly. It’s the wings and tails you want to attack.” The rest of the teenagers stared at Gobber, waiting for an explanation. His spiel hadn’t connected with me, so I was about to take a bite of my thoroughly cooked salmon. “You take off the wings or tails, and the dragon can’t fly anymore. A downed dragon is a dead dragon.” I had taken a bite of fish when Gobber’s explanation crashed its way into my brain. I choked on the bite and brought up pieces of fish from coughing so hard. “Are you okay?” Astrid asked. “Geez, it looks like you just saw a ghost, Hiccup.” I held up a hand to show her everything was fine and continued coughing. Eventually, I had dislodged all of the fish in my throat and said, “Yeah, uh, I’m fine.” I continued eating my fish because I knew I needed to get some food in me. After hearing what Gobber had said, I knew Toothless was in trouble, so I wolfed down the third meal of the day. I figured this was going to be a loooooong night. And a hellish morning, because we’d resume dragon training. “Wouldn’t it be cool if, like, when a dragon eats your hand or something,” Fishlegs started, “if, like, you still had control over your hand and you could, like, kill the dragon from the inside. You know, maybe something like crush its heart.” I heard Ruffnut ask her twin, “You got a tattoo?” She didn’t pay attention to any of Fishlegs’s idea. “When?” her brother asked. “Oh, this? I’ve had this since I was, like, three.” “No, I’ve been right by your side since birth, and I know that wasn’t there recently.” “Yes it was. You’ve just never seen me from the left side before. That’s all.” Ruffnut rolled her eyes at him. There was an awkward pause. Astrid broke it, asking, “Hiccup, you’re awfully quiet. Is there something going on?” I froze, looking at her. “Um…not really. Just…well, nothing’s on my mind right now.” Before anyone could say anything else, Gobber interrupted our broken conversation. He yawned audibly and said, “It’s getting late. I’m off to bed. You should be too.” He pointed in our general direction as he said this. “Slowly, we’re working our way to bigger and more dangerous beasts,” he said eerily. “Who among you will be the one to kill a dragon?” “It’s gonna be me. I just know it, ‘cause it’s my destiny,” Tuffnut said, leaning back with arrogance. “Are you serious?” Snotlout asked. “There’s no way you could even touch a dragon.” “Yeah there is. I’ll show you tomorrow,” Tuffnut countered. “Deal!” Snotlout said excitedly. I used the distraction provided by Gobber, Tuffnut and Snotlout to finish the salmon. I quietly put the skewer down, stood up and snuck away toward the armory. I hoped that nobody would follow me, so I took a meandering route through home to get there. I crept into the armory and waited for about five minutes. Nobody came calling, and I watched Gobber walk back into his house. Good. Time for the main event. I had never embarked on a project this intense in my life. I knew this would be probably the most difficult idea anyone could ever conceive as a blacksmith. And I had nothing at all to start with. No plans, no drawings, no designs. This was all going to have to be designed in my head and created with my hands. From concept to creation, I had to build a functional tail fin for Toothless. The first problem I ran into was the dimensions of the fin. I pulled out my notebook and flipped to the page with my Toothless drawing. The right tail fin had been rubbed out, so I drew it back in with three crossing lines. I knew these would hold the tail fin rigid when it was extended. But it also needed to be collapsible. I figured I could get to that later. But the dimensions. If I got these wrong, it would be an entire night wasted and another night making a new fin. I remembered when Toothless was hiding his eyes from me earlier that his tail fin was roughly the height of his head. The length of the fin was probably from my neck to my waist. Two and a half feet, give or take. I eventually settled on this number, simply because I was going with my gut feeling. I was going to try and trust my instincts, seeing whether I could just let my creativity flow. I had a blank sheet of parchment in front of me, so I began drawing the specific design that I needed. There would be a metal rod holding the fin in place on the dragon’s tail. Three crossing beams would hold the fin open or closed. The fin would open and close using ball-and-socket joints. The fin would have to be held together by a sturdy leather. I wrote down the specific numbers I thought I would need for each dimension: the length and diameter of the central rod, the width of the ball bearings, the length and width of each beam, distance from the central rod to the end of the leather. Lots of numbers, lots of sketches. I started with the central rod first. I had never made something this intricate before, because it had a ball bearing affixed to one end, which prevented the leather from sliding off, and three hinge joints at regular intervals going down the rod. The hinge closest to Toothless's head controlled the rest of the crossing beams, forcing them to open or close. The joint was held together using shaped screws from the shields we had lying around the armory. I wrenched them out and shaped them for the hinge. I also fashioned several ball bearings. You could never have too many of these, so any extras I saved for later. I made the three crossing beams and designed them with their sockets, finally securing the ball bearings into the central rod. The fin wouldn’t open or close until I got the leather on, but each joint could move fluidly, indicating to me that the joints worked perfectly. Searching around the armory, I found a large sheet of leather that felt sturdy enough to work as the prosthetic fin. I laid it on the ground and placed the frame on top, the central rod in the middle of the sheet. I folded the sheet over on itself and cut away any spare area of leather I didn’t need for the fin. I left a quarter-inch between the end of the leather and ball bearings on the ends of the rods, making sure the leather wouldn’t be stressed at all. I also cut out holes where the joints were so that the leather would be completely flat and aerodynamic. Toothless was built for speed, and I kept thinking about how to design the tail fin to match him. I sewed the leather to itself on either side of each crossing beam and on the inside of the central rod. Working the first crossing beam on the tail fin, the leather folded up neatly on itself. I pulled the beam back toward me and the fin expanded to, well, a fin-like shape. Success. Well, for now. I’d have to see whether the tail fin actually fit Toothless or not. I cut two leather straps to work as fasteners to Toothless’s tail and outfitted them with small belt buckles. I threaded them through the holes that had been cut in the leather. We were ready for tomorrow. Boy, this was going to be interesting. I hid the prosthetic fin inside my little corner, underneath the drawing table. Gobber usually never ventured into here, simply because he didn’t understand what all of the drawings and designs meant. No interest to him, as long as I was keeping out of trouble. I figured I was keeping out of trouble because I hadn’t been caught helping a dragon. Like they say, it’s not illegal unless you get caught. :: I ambled my way home and tried to catch some sleep before morning could find me. ___________________ Breakfast was uneventful again. I ate a (cooked) fish and walked back home. We had a large basket for carrying supplies at the armory, which I grabbed along with the tail fin. I sauntered behind the great hall and filled the basket with fish. An eel caught my eye. Rare treat for some. For me, I didn’t like eel a whole lot, but maybe Toothless would. I carried the basket slung over my shoulder, trying to hurry so I could get to the cove without having my arm break. Panting, I placed the basket down at the entrance of the cove and rested. After I caught my breath, I shoved the basked underneath the shield that was still lodged between the rocks and crawled in after it. I carried the basket down to the bottom of the cove, where Toothless just watched me. “Oh, Toooo-oothless,” I said in a singsong way. “I brought breakfast. Hope you’re hungry.” I set the basket and prosthetic tail fin down about twenty feet away from him and watched. He sniffed at the air and noticed that it smelled like food. He stood up, stretched and loped over to the basket and looked at me with anticipation, licking his lips. I kicked the basket over, spilling its contents. “Okay, that’s disgusting. I brought you a bunch of fish and a whole smoked eel.” I saw his eyes brighten as the fish cascaded out of the basket. Toothless nosed into the pile of fish, looking for the best ones to eat first. The pile shifted slightly and the eel began sliding down the pile, where Toothless saw it brush his front right foot. His eyes narrowed to slits and his ears collapsed to the back of his head. He finished his statement about eels by snarling at me. Toothless glared directly into my eyes, telling me in no uncertain terms what he was thinking. Brilliant, Hiccup, I thought sarcastically. The eel was next to his right foot, just inches away, and I found out very quickly that Toothless hated eel. What made it even worse was that he wouldn’t move away from the eel, forcing me to pick it up for him. This was not good, especially when I had just barely gained his trust last night. I’d have to pray to the gods that he wouldn’t plaster me with a fireball when I got close. Slowly, I eased my way around the fish, which would have probably been really enticing for him. But I had to play his little game by his rules and get the eel out of the way. Apparently, Toothless was a finicky eater. I kept my eyes on Toothless, who just growled at me the entire time, telling me to hurry up and get the eel away from him. I crouched down as far away from Toothless as I could get, just barely reaching the eel with my fingertips. He didn’t stop growling as I slowly removed the eel from his foot. I had forgotten that eels are very slippery, even when dead. The eel slid out of my fingertips and collapsed directly against Toothless’s front right foot. Time seemed to move in slow motion as Toothless reared back on his hind legs and roared in panic. He backed up a few feet and snarled at me. To make sure I understood him completely, he shot a fireball about ten feet to my left. It hit the ground with a hollow explosion, leaving a scorch mark for me to think about. Toothless returned his glare to me. Quickly, I picked up the eel. Held it up in front of him and asked, “You don’t like eel?” His face turned to a grimace of disgust as he turned his head away from the eel, snarling. He still had his eyes fixed on it, worried that it might contaminate him or something. “Yeah, I don’t either,” I said, tossing the eel to the other side of the stream. The eel hit the ground, but Toothless just stood there, glaring. He was growling softly, telling me that if I made the same mistake again, I wouldn’t be so lucky. I couldn’t move. I was too frightened. Toothless crept toward the pile of fish, all the while keeping me in his sight. He nosed gently through the pile checking for any other eels. “No more eels,” I said shakily. Toothless didn’t seem to believe me. He kept working his way to the bottom of the pile and brought his head back up with a small fish in his mouth. He swallowed as his demeanor slowly turned back to anticipating. His eyes weren’t slits anymore. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, that’s good,” I said calmly. “I’m just gonna go over here,” I mumbled quietly as I sidled over to his tail, trying not to attract his attention. “Minding my own business…no need to worry about me…” Good grief, Toothless could eat. By the time I had gotten to his tail, he was already most of the way through with the fish. I laid the prosthetic fin down next to his tail and got ready to strap it on. I thought Toothless would be generally still while eating, but his tail was moving back and forth, deftly avoiding the fin. He didn’t seem aware of me behind him because I didn’t hear him growl or snarl at me. I grabbed a hold of his tail to try and keep it steady while I threaded the leather straps underneath and looped them into the buckles. I had gotten one strap underneath his tail when Toothless shoved his head into the basket, trying to get the last couple of fish that had somehow avoided revealing themselves to the hungry dragon. His tail went with him, and I lost my balance, nearly falling face-first onto the prosthetic fin. That was too close. I sat down on his tail, back facing him while I worked the other strap around his tail. I heard a curious grunt come from Toothless. Better hurry. I cinched up the straps to make sure they were tight when Toothless wiggled his tail experimentally, trying to figure out what I was doing to him. His remaining tail fin flapped a little as I spread out the prosthetic fin, realizing that I had guessed the size almost perfectly. I smiled a little at myself, proud that one of my plans had actually worked. “Doesn’t look too bad,” I mumbled to no one. “Looks like it’ll work.” I heard a low whoosh as Toothless spread his wings. “Uh-oh,” I managed to say as I took hold of Toothless’s tail. Toothless launched off the ground with power that I had no idea a creature could harbor. “WHOA!” I screamed. “OH, NO-NO-NO-NO-NO!” I was hanging on for dear life, eyes shut, experiencing first-hand just how powerful a dragon was during flight. I could feel each wingbeat as Toothless gained altitude. Toothless began cantering to his right. It didn’t feel like he was in control. It felt like when he was trying to escape the cove a few days back, seeing him struggle to fly. I opened my eyes and saw the tail fin was collapsed. Well, silly me. It wasn’t going to control itself. I could feel Toothless dropping like a rock as I grabbed the main crossing beam and pulled the fin open. All of my blood rushed to my head as Toothless pulled up, feeling in control once again. He just barely got back on track, because my forearm brushed the grass at the bottom of his freefall. Just like when he took off, I could feel everything through his tail. His breath coming in massive gasps. His wings churning through the air as he tried to reach the sky. I held the fin open with one hand and held onto his tail with the other, my legs locked around his tail as well. I felt Toothless attempt to bank and realized something was amiss. The fin had no mobility. It could only open or close. Toothless needed mobility in his fin if he wanted to be able to do anything while flying. Otherwise, this fin was only good for flying in a straight line. I just hoped that my design was good enough to get back down to the ground in one piece. Toothless must have realized the same thing too, because his idea of banking was way too much to handle. I could feel him lose altitude, and quickly. He adjusted by making a slow, wide turn, knowing there wasn’t a whole lot he could do in the air. But he could at least fly somewhere, and that was one place more than yesterday. I watched the ground zip by me as Toothless flew and saw that the cove was underneath us again. I thought we were going to land neatly, and Toothless would be thrilled with my little accomplishment. “YES! YES! I DID IT! IT’S WORKING!” I shouted. We were flying over the lake in the far corner of the cove when Toothless must have heard me. Without warning, he whipped around, his tail flinging me off at what had to be the fastest speed any Viking had ever moved. I screamed at the top of my lungs; maybe somebody in Berk would hear and be able to catch me. I was moving fast enough to skip like a flat stone not once, but twice across the water’s surface. After that second bounce, I fell into the water and sprang back up to the surface to see if Toothless was okay. He looked back at his tail fin and realized there would be nobody there to hold it open. He shrieked in disbelief as he skidded into the lake about fifty feet away from me. “YEAH!” I shouted, jumping out of the water. I had forgotten the lake was pretty deep, so my head went under after that jump. I resurfaced and swam to shore. Toothless clambered out of the lake, grumbling. I hoisted myself out of the water with a huge grin on my face. The tail fin had worked perfectly for today. It wasn’t acceptable for what Toothless needed, but I could always make improvements. I had learned early on in the armory when trying to make something difficult, the best way to go is to make small, incremental improvements and not try to make everything work at once. I started to make my way toward Toothless when he saw me and galloped his way towards me. His eyes were huge and his ears were up, so he must have been happy. He sniffed at me briefly then looked me in the eyes. I had no idea what to do, so I just stood there in uncertainty. Toothless closed his eyes and lowered his head in front of me. It was like he was paying me back for last night. He was allowing me to decide what to do with him. I gently rubbed the top of his head, whispering, “Thanks, Toothless.” He gave a low groan of approval. He was beginning to trust me, even after the eel adventure. At that moment, I realized I was the only Viking in Berk who would even think about befriending a dragon. But more importantly, I knew I was the only Viking in Berk who would try to help a downed dragon fly again. But I had to make improvements on the tail fin first. It needed to move up and down. It also needed to be able to close or open partially. A continuum of movements. How the heck was I going to design it? Better yet, how the heck was I going to teach Toothless how to use his prosthetic tail fin? Wait. I was smart enough to know how. What if I could control the fin? What if I could help Toothless fly, like a helmsman does on a ship? Bingo. The idea slammed itself into my mind fully formed, designed and ready to be built. I took my hand away from Toothless’s head. He opened his eyes and looked at me. And sighed in content. He was happy with what I did for him. I fed him and gave him an opportunity to fly. And maybe some company. I slowly walked around to his tail, hoping I could steal the prosthetic fin for a night and make improvements to it. As I sidled along, I asked him, “Toothless, can I take your fin back? I’ll bring it again tomorrow.” I laughed a little on the inside, realizing I was talking to a dragon. Who wouldn’t respond. But Toothless just sat there and let me remove the fin from his tail, apparently understanding that he couldn’t fly very well with it in its current shape. He must have remembered that bank he tried to pull off midway through his trial flight. I closed the fin and stood up. He just looked at me, pleading me with his eyes to bring the fin back. Improved, so he could bank. “I promise,” I said to him. I stroked his head again, listening to him purr. He looked at me one more time and loped off to a corner to lie down. I just stared at him, thinking he was truly amazing. I picked up the discarded eel on my way out of the cove, remembering Toothless’s reaction to it earlier. I was wondering if I could somehow cheat today’s dragon training, because after two brief and benevolent interactions with Toothless, I was starting to dislike training more and more. As I walked back to Berk with the eel hidden under my vest, I wondered if all dragons might be like Toothless inside. ___________________ Gobber slammed the lever down and a new door opened. The first time, a Gronckle came raging out. The second time, we just heard the Nadder come out warbling. This time, however, was a real shock to us. Greenish gas exploded out of the pen, enveloping half the arena. The Hideous Zippleback was our lesson for the day. Gobber had instructed each of us to grab a bucket of water for one specific reason. “A dragon cannot produce fire if its head is wet,” he explained to us. “The Hideous Zippleback is extra tricky. One head breathes gas, and the other lights it.” Fishlegs and I were one team. Astrid and Ruffnut made the second team and Tuffnut and Snotlout were the last team. We couldn’t see each other because of the Zippleback’s fog. Fishlegs hunkered down in fear, explaining in gruesome detail how dangerous a Zippleback was. “Razor-sharp teeth that inject venom into its prey for predigestion. Prefers ambush attack over…” “''WILL YOU STOP THAT?!?” I whispered to him. Fishlegs stopped his explanation immediately and then asked, “Hiccup, why do you smell like fish?” Uh-oh. I had to think of a lie, and quick. “I, uh, I just ate a fish for lunch,” I whispered. “That…smells like eel,” he pointed out. “Can we talk about this later?” I asked. Fishlegs dropped the conversation, because all of us heard a low growl from somewhere in the fog. To my right, I heard Snotlout say, “If that dragon shows either of its faces…Huh? THERE!” He and Tuffnut splashed their water at two silhouettes emerging through the fog, which were Astrid and Ruffnut. “Heeey! It’s us, idiot!” Ruffnut shouted. “It is?” Tuffnut said sarcastically. “Your butts are getting bigger. We thought you were a dragon.” “Not that there’s anything really ''wrong ''with a dragon-esque figure,” Snotlout added, trying to keep Astrid’s ire away from him. It didn’t work, because Ruffnut threw her bucket full of water at her twin, knocking him onto his rear, and Astrid strode in and smacked Snotlout across the face with her water bucket. The Zippleback must have taken advantage of their distraction, because all of us heard a low, ominous growl from the fog somewhere. “Shh! Listen!” Astrid said as Ruffnut went to pick up her now-empty bucket. Nothing happened for an instant. Then two things happened in quick sequence. First, a long green tail swept Astrid off her feet. She yelped as she landed on her backside. Immediately after, I heard Tuffnut scream as he was dragged backwards into the fog. He came running out a few seconds later without his helmet but otherwise intact, shouting, “OH, I AM HURT! I AM VERY MUCH DEFINITELY HURT!” He continued running toward the exit and stayed there, out of the way. Where he was in full sight because there was no fog there. “Chances of survival are dwindling into single digits now,” Fishlegs informed me. He was visibly quivering. I heard a low growl in the fog. It was getting closer. A shadow appeared. “''Freeze,” I whispered to Fishlegs. I didn’t want to repeat what Tuffnut and Snotlout did with their water. Fishlegs just stayed there, quivering. Slowly, a greenish head with yellow eyes and an evil smile snaked into view. The Zippleback. Its face was locked into that wicked smile, so staring at it was probably one of the most horrifying things anyone could think of. It spied Fishlegs as I was inching my way backwards. “Uhh,” Fishlegs muttered, shaking so bad his water was spilling out of the bucket. He hesitated for a second and then splashed his water onto the dragon’s head. Mission accomplished. The dragon’s head shook off some of the water and opened its mouth slightly, leering at Fishlegs, daring him to soak it again. A small amount of greenish gas spilled out as a taunt. “Oh, wrong head,” Fishlegs observed. The dragon opened its mouth further and spewed enough gas to envelop Fishlegs entirely. He screamed and ran toward the other side of the arena. I was locked up in fear, watching the whole spectacle. I saw the dragon’s other head emerge from the fog. Both of them were looking at me, the left head was the gas-breathing head, and the right head was the sparking head. The Zippleback must have seen that I had water in my bucket because its sparking head rose up to about ten feet and began sparking with that slightly jerking movement. “NOW, HICCUP!” Gobber shouted. Without hesitating, I splashed the water towards the sparking head and watched as it fell miserably short. “Oh, come on,” I mumbled. Now that my bucket was empty, the Zippleback’s sparking head came back to within a few feet of my own face and began trying to spark again. Green gas was all around me, so I was a goner. “HICCUP!” Gobber shouted. I heard him running, listening to the alternating pat-clunk sound of his footsteps. The dragon’s sparking head came closer. It stared me in the face, then halted. It felt like the dragon saw something it was afraid of. An eel. Slowly, I pulled the left side of my vest back, revealing that I indeed had an eel concealed. I put on the best sadistic grin I could muster for the dragon and stood up, making sure the dragon had a clear view of my secret weapon. “Back! Back!” I shouted to the dragon, as it backed away in abject fear of a nice bit of seafood. I made a show with my hands, so that I would at least appear somewhat convincing. One of its heads gave a short bleat as it backpedaled. The dragon had no intention of starting a fire, only get away from the dangerous eel. I made sure the only individuals who could see the eel were me and the Zippleback. I corralled it into its pen and said as convincingly as possible, “Into your cage. Now why don’t you think about what you’ve done?” In a last-second spark of mercy, I hid the eel again under my vest. Didn’t want anyone to find evidence that I had just tricked all of Berk. I closed the door and pulled the lever down, locking it, and made a show of dusting myself off as I turned around to face everyone. “So…are we done?” I asked innocently. All six of their mouths were open. Fishlegs dropped his empty bucket without even looking, completely shocked that Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III had just shown a fearsome dragon what happens when he gets angry. “Okay, well, um. I’ve got some things to, you know. Yep. Got some…see you tomorrow!” I stuttered as I hurried out of the arena. Apparently everyone was still in shock because nobody followed me. I hurried to the back of the great hall and placed the eel into the trash pile, noting with dismay that my vest and shirt smelled like seafood. Oh, well. If anyone found out about what I had just done, I could go to my grave knowing that I had a heck of a laugh shocking everyone like that. I snuck into the armory, looking for a parchment with orders on it. Please let me find a saddle, I begged the air in front of me. If there was an order for a saddle, I could cover it up with the next step for my plan with Toothless. Sure enough, the first item on the list was a saddle. Ordered by the one and only Hoark. Oh, I was gonna make a saddle all right. Not for a horse. For a Night Fury. Before I could start, Gobber marched into the armory and announced, “There you are, Hiccup. I was wondering where you went.” “Well, here I am,” I said dryly. “All right. How did you do that? And why do you smell like eel? I thought you hated it.” “Do what?” I lied. The only way I was gonna answer Gobber's other question was if he brought it up again. “Don’t play games with me, Hiccup. Yesterday and the day before you were completely helpless. But today, what happened?” “I improved? I think that book on dragons was really helpful, except for the Night Fury page.” Gobber scratched his chin in bewilderment, “Yeah, if someone could actually see the dragon, we could complete the page. But how did you…” he started before trailing off. “Uh, I guess I just got lucky,” I said truthfully. I knew that Toothless hated eel, but it was a huge risk to see if a standard Hideous Zippleback would hate it too. “And, uh, can I get started on this saddle?” I asked. I knew I was running out of excuses about the Zippleback, so I tried to steer the conversation to a different topic. Maybe Gobber would give up and leave me in peace so I could work on “Jamu’s” saddle. “Sure,” Gobber said. “Just make sure you do a good job on it. Hoark’s horse seems to have broken her last one.” I rolled my eyes. “''His'' horse? Is that what he told you?” “It’s exactly what he told me.” “And you believe him, don’t you?” “Well, yes,” Gobber said matter-of-factly. “Hoark says you aren’t strong enough to make a saddle for him.” I rolled my eyes in disgust. “Figures. I would like to tell him that he’s driving Jamu into the ground every day. But he would never believe me.” “And why should he? He can’t stand all…all…this,” Gobber said, motioning in my general direction. “You just pointed to all of me,” I said dryly. “Since all this is too much for him,” I said, motioning to myself in general, “Why don’t you tell Hoark yourself?” “Okay, fine. I’ll let you get to work on that saddle. And I’ll try to tell Hoark not to break another saddle. This is the fourth one in a month. Oh, and be in front of the armory tomorrow morning.” I nodded as Gobber left the armory. Time for the show. I walked back to my design room and pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment. In one corner, I drew a design for a connector that joined the main rod and crossing beams in Toothless’s prosthetic fin. It was a simple change, just make the connectors curved so that the tail fin could move up and down as well as open and close. I also grabbed a long piece of twine that I could use to control the fin’s movements with my left hand. I made the connectors and rounded them out so that they slid easily in the tail fin and replaced the original connectors with the new ones. Task one completed. The saddle, however, was going to be a challenge. I mulled the saddle design over thoroughly in my head because it had to be perfect. I had my notebook out with my drawing of Toothless staring me in the face. He had a line of small ridges on his back, presumably beginning just below his neck. I’d have to take those into account. I knew the saddle couldn’t sit too far on his back because I’d get in the way of his wings. Too far forward would be on his neck. So I decided to set it up just in front of his shoulder blades, behind his neck. I also needed a way to keep the saddle on Toothless. I thought back to a horse’s saddle, where there are leather straps that feed between its front legs. There’s another leather strap that goes in a loop underneath the horse’s chest. The feeder and loop straps connect using a piece of leather on the bottom. That’s what I would base my design on. The two loops, I made using more belt-type buckles, and the connector just held on between the two loops. I was glad that I could make saddles without too much trouble. The frame wasn’t too bad to make. In fact, it was a little easier than a standard horse’s frame. Toothless was wide enough around that I wouldn’t have to worry about the saddle extending over his sides. The frame had less curvature around the edges, but had more of a bulge in the middle due to Toothless’s back ridges. I made Toothless’s saddle just like any other horse’s saddle from that point, finishing in just over six hours. Record time, probably because I really wanted to do this project. It wasn’t like someone asked me to make a saddle for Toothless. He didn’t even ask me, but I was going to anyway. For good measure, I made the frame for Jamu and left it in the armory. Making a saddle for a horse now seemed dull, considering that I had just made a one-of-a-kind saddle for a Night Fury named Toothless. I hid the saddle and prosthetic tail fin underneath my drawing board for the night. Category:Blog posts